Silent Footsteps
by HardyGirls
Summary: Protector becomes protected as Joe struggles to keep Frank safe; all the while Frank has his own demons to fight. This is set when the boys are grown up; Frank is NYPD, Joe is Secret Service.
1. Chapter 1

SILENT FOOTSTEPS

By: Hardygirls

Chapter One.

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except for some OC's – I take them out, we play – then tired and happy I send them home..

-00-

The search had been dirty, and long; and the results they'd expected were still eluding them.

Frank Hardy wiped the sweat from his face without thinking, then grimaced at the fetid odour of garbage his gloved hand left across his forehead. Garbage detail; he shook his head at his questionable luck at his latest assignment.

"Hardy!"

He turned quickly to see a muscularly built blond man rapidly approaching and cringed inwardly.

"Yeah boss" he answered, trying not to sound too frustrated.

"Report! You got anything yet?"

Frank shook his head, stifling his fatigue. "No, nothing yet…"

"Well, get moving then! I'm not paying you overtime just so you can drag the chain, Detective!" the newcomer spat the last word at him.

Thankfully, the crackle of a radio stopped the berating right there, as Lieutenant Bruce McGowan turned his attitude to an unlucky dispatcher. McGowan threw a final glare at Frank before storming away, hands stabbing madly and determinedly in the air, underlining his shouted orders.

Frank straightened up and stretched, a little surprised at the stab of pain in his lower back. Taking a moment to look around, he noticed most of his brethren had given up the task and some were even enjoying a hot drink around the back of the unit van.

Catching his eye, a couple of them smirked and raised their mugs to toast him sarcastically. Frank swallowed his rising resentment. It had always been this way but to show them that they were getting to him wasn't worth it; only Joe was worth it and that was all that mattered. Whatever the sacrifice he was making now didn't matter in the long run.

Seeing the number of dumpsters that still needed to be searched, he crouched again and continued the arduous task of filtering through the obnoxious refuse. They were looking for the gun used in a murder case. A police informant had tipped them off that it could found in this refuse plant. There had been sizeable groans around the squad room when the overtime for the search had been approved but Frank had already known he'd be the one waist deep in excrement doing the bad ones if his workmates had their way.

Some days he wished he'd never joined the police force; some days he admitted to himself that his brother had been right. He shook his head as his thoughts wandered to Joe. No, he wasn't about to tell him that; Joe worried about him enough, he didn't need any further burden levied on his shoulders; the load he'd managed to heap on himself over the years was more than anyone should ever have to carry. Frank continued doggedly at his task. No, he wasn't going to add to it.

After a further grueling couple of hours the elusive fire-am was located. Frank sighed with relief that the informant had been correct with his information. Towards the end of the search he'd really started to wonder if this had been staged just to give him something revolting to do.

_Get a grip Hardy, you're starting to get too paranoid_ Frank thought silently.

McGowan was marginally happy, but still rebuked his men for taking far too long and kept his glare fixed on Frank as he did so for most of the tirade. Frank only half listened, having heard the speech too many times to count. He focused instead on the thought of a long hot shower, with soap, that would wash away the stench of unidentifiable rotting matter.

"… and Hardy, I want the report on my desk first thing in the morning." McGowan had turned his surly attitude back in his direction. The snickering around him was normal; Frank was the whipping boy of the department and McGowan relished the task of riding him.

"Not a problem" he answered evenly. It pissed McGowan off when he kept his emotions in check and rarely let the man see that his comments or orders caused any kind of consternation. It was a small victory but it was satisfying enough.

Frank turned to the van and climbed in the back. Closing his eyes as they pulled out of the refuse plant, he willed his mind to better days.

In the year he'd worked for the department, Frank had prided himself on not having shown too much of anything to McGowan or his predecessor. There were times when things had been good, but that wasn't here. When he started his career with the Bayport police and Ezra Collig had still been the chief he'd been happy that his decision had been the right one and somehow it dulled the pain to know that. Now he knew his stoic resistance to crumbling under the pressure being applied was starting to wane, and he wondered how much longer it would be before he couldn't keep up anymore.

After Chief Collig's retirement and a good few years of experience, Frank had decided to move to the "big apple", New York. It had always been a dream of his, to walk the same pathway his father had. He didn't need to make his father proud of him, he'd known all his life that his father was, but the pull to become as good as Fenton Hardy had been meant for Frank to do the same "hard yards" and to put the time into learning his craft from the bottom up; and a good place to start seemed to be New York, just as his father had.

Some days he wished his father was still alive; to be able to talk to him, share his experiences, but in a way he was glad he wasn't there, wouldn't see the way he was actually being treated. It was going to be a long road but he wasn't giving up anytime soon.

-00-

The feel of the hot water and soap sliding over his cold aching body was blissful. Never had standard issue no-name soap smelled so good. He vowed to never take a shower for granted again.

He closed out the bantering around him and enjoyed the moment. If anything, he was pleased that he was basically ignored. To him, the only person that he'd banter that much with would be Joe – but that had been a lifetime ago. It just served to add to the ache within his soul.

Getting back to his desk in the squad room dissipated his moment of relaxation from the shower; his desk was piled high with more paperwork than he'd expected. Being the most junior detective in the squad had its drawbacks. Mostly his "peers" if he could laughingly call them that, resented him for who he was - and who his father had been. In Bayport he'd been accepted as a hard working genuine person who's work ethic was always to try and do the right thing, even if it meant going an extra mile or working in his own time. It had been well known in Bayport that if the Hardy boys were on a job it was going to be done, one way or another.

In New York he was surrounded by career cops who'd spent their whole career eeking out an existence, hoping for a break but getting little recognition, and then Frank Hardy came to work with them. Nobody was happy about it and everyone saw him as a spoiled brat who'd make his name and move on ahead of them. The ill will towards him had spread like wildfire through the precinct. It made no difference how hard Frank worked, McGowan's predecessor had known and resented Fenton Hardy from their rookie days together, and McGowan himself had carried on the dislike.

Joe had told him forever to get out of the job, to move on, but Frank had resisted; he'd started down this path and felt strongly that he was going to make a go of it whether he was accepted or not. The argument would always be the same with Frank quietly determined and Joe finally blowing his stack and walking away.

Frank felt for him but also longed for the day when Joe would accept none of this was his fault. When the boys had both still been teenagers their parents had been killed in a boating accident on one of the rare vacations they'd managed to take together. Frank and Joe had been left the house, as expected but still there was a need for income and a steady home life; Joe needed to go to college. Frank changed his own plans and became the bread winner, opting to study at night school. Joe had always felt guilty but there was little he could do about it. Frank would always pull out the trump card and tell him how much this would have meant to their parents.

"Hey"

Frank turned suddenly from his paperwork to see Mack, his partner, standing beside his desk. He hadn't even heard him come in he'd been so engrossed in what he was doing.

"Hey yourself" he replied carefully. Partner he may be - on paper, but still this man was wary of him and reported directly to McGowan.

"What's the boss gotcha doin' now?"

"Just the paperwork on tonight's seizure; you know, the Laudner case." Frank told him, keeping his eyes on the paperwork before him. He didn't need to look at Mack to know he was keenly watching him, hoping for a hint of a complaint that could be taken back to McGowan.

"Yeah, … sorry about that… heard it was pretty bad… I had a thing to do, ya know, couldn't be there…" his voice trailed off as Frank turned and nodded politely.

"Oh well, I'm sure you've done your fair share of these, Mack"

Mack narrowed his eyes. "You ok pardner?" he drawled. "You look a little …"

Frank shook his head good naturedly; much more good naturedly than he really felt at the middle aged, overweight, overbearing and lazy excuse for a detective before him. "Just a long day is all… I'm good" Frank told him and then turned back to his paperwork.

He waited, wondering if this would be the first time that Mack offered to help him. There was more chance of the Pope not being a Catholic but still Frank wondered if the day would ever come.

"Well, if you've got it all covered here then…. I'll leave ya to it." Frank smiled inwardly. Mack would never actually "offer" to help but rather "allow" himself to be asked, then he could magnanimously give of his time, and tell you all about his experience, which Frank had heard from him time and time again.

"Yeah Mack, I got it covered, just a little paperwork… I really want to finish it up while it's still fresh in my mind ya know?" he mimicked Mack's drawl just a little.

Mack raised his eyebrows before turning to leave the squad room.

Frank turned his attention back to the report before him and took a deep breath. Working nights was not a new thing to him and when he'd worked with his father and brother all those years ago there were more than a few "all nighters" pulled in the line of solving a case.

As he worked he smiled to himself that he'd not having risen to any of the bait he'd been thrown. McGowan was itching to give him a lousy review and any kind of outburst was what he was looking for. Even a roll of the eyes, a dark look, it wouldn't take much for McGown to bust him out of the division. The rule was simple; anything done well meant credit given to McGowan. Anything not done well… Frank had held his breath for months that the "not done well" things never got "really really bad".

The buzzing of his cell phone startled him. Checking his watch he was surprised to see it was nearing 2:00am.

"Frank Hardy" he said quickly, flipping the phone open without looking at the caller ID display.

"Hey big brother…" Frank smiled at the sound of Joe's voice on the line.

"Hey little brother…" he replied warmly, then quickly added: "Are you Ok?" He could literally hear Joe's eye's rolling and clearly heard the heavy sigh.

"Yeah Frank, I'm good… oh! – sorry; just realized how late it was for you… We just got back from.. a job and well, wanted to let you know I'm back in circulation for a bit."

Franks spirits rose dramatically. He was always worried when Joe was away working and often wondered if this is what it had been like for his parents when he and Joe would disappear undercover for periods of time. "Cool, are you in town yet?" he asked hopefully.

"Nah… soon I think, but not yet."

Frank knew better than to ask. Joe had sailed through college and set his sights on the Secret Service and had succeeded to build a career in their organization. The downside was that it _was_ secret and though the boys were close and trusted each other implicitly, Joe could never talk about the sensitive stuff. Frank didn't prod for more than Joe could tell him. Joe felt bad about it but Frank was proud that Joe was honoring his commitment to the oath he'd taken.

"Anyway…" Joe continued, "watcha doing up at this hour anyway?"

Frank grinned. "You phoned me, brat! – Of course I'm up."

Joe chuckled. "That – and I bet you're at the precinct anyway aren't you? – oh, and I'll save you the embarrassment of catching you out in white lie, I've already rung your apartment several times and you're obviously not answering… care to share?"

Frank let out a deep sigh. "Nah, nothing I can really say; just working on paperwork that's due first thing… I'm almost finished and heading off in a minute. When am I going to get to see you?"

"I'll give you a call on that, works a little busy at the minute… go finish your report, I'll talk to you later." Joe told him lightly.

Frank smiled. "Thanks for the call Joe, - it's good to hear from you,"

"Are you sure you're - " Joe started before Frank interrupted.

"'Night Joe" Frank chuckled, flipping the phone shut.

His mood had lightened considerably and he smiled to himself as he finished printing out the last of the report. He'd learned to be careful, printing at least two or even sometimes three copies of the reports and setting them in blank department folders. More than once a report he'd placed on the boss's desk had "vanished" by morning leaving McGowan roaring at him and Frank scrambling to try and re-print it. On one of those occasion he'd found his computer access compromised right at that moment and worse, sometimes his files had been mysteriously deleted.

That had been when he was still very green. Now he encrypted his files, copied them to his own remote drive and prepared extra report copies that he filed away secretly in his desk.

He still enjoyed the memory of the day that McGowan had roared at him for a "missing" file, making accusations at Frank of not having done the work. Frank had calmly walked to his desk and taken out a fresh copy and handed it to a red faced McGowan. Frank had decided to add a little oil to the fire in those days and lightly told McGowan that it would be a good idea to look after that one, that he was sure if he checked he'd find his computer files had miraculously vanished and it would take an hour or two to have it re-typed. That was when he thought he could make a difference to the way he was treated and even more naively believed that the squad was a team.

The fallout had been severe. Frank had been given the nightshift for months, and every rotten job, every floater in the river that came in - was his. McGowan's reach was far and it was well known in the department, shitty detail equaled the Hardy boy.

Taking a last look around the squad room for the night, Frank turned the lights out and left. Tomorrow was another day and he was due back at the station in less than six hours.

-00-

Though tired and feeling washed out after the late night overtime Frank was glad that he'd put the hours in to finish the paperwork when he did rather than try and get in early. To his surprise the day improved dramatically when the morning squad briefing revealed a new assignment for him; in Bayport.

At first he thought it must have just been fatigue that made him think he heard "Bayport" but grudgingly McGowan called upon him during the briefing for local knowledge. The suspects in the Loudner case had done a runner and there had been possible sightings in the Bayport area. Frank marveled at just how much it grated on McGowan's nerves to assign him to the case.

They needed to send "somebody" to work with the Bayport Police. It was a no-brainer that since they had a detective with local knowledge that he'd be the logical choice. He'd left Frank on the most innocuous of cases for so long that there _was_ nothing pressing to keep him in New York. Not even McGowan could ignore that nor find a way out of it; he wasn't _quite_ that friendly with the Chief Commissioner.

"Don't let me down on this one Hardy, I'll be watching you." McGowan pointed his finger menacingly at the young detective. Frank watched his superior stomp back to his desk, his face red and flustered as he started to dial the phone.

Frank couldn't have cared less what the threats or insults or backlash from his peers were at the moment, he was going home, and it startled him to realize just how much he wanted to do that. No McGowan, no Mack, no shit from the others… just home.

As he packed what he'd need from his desk he became aware of Mack's eyes burning through his back. He turned and gave his partner a quizzical look.

"What's up Mack?" Frank watched him for a few seconds expecting some kind of complaint about how it wasn't right, fair and all the rest of the bitching Frank had heard since the briefing.

Mack stared a moment then pursed his lips slightly. "Nuttin' kid; best you watchya back up there."

Frank nodded, frantically trying to look less excited about his impeding secondment.

"Hmm… Thanks Mack, I'll be sure to…" He couldn't help but hold Mack's gaze a moment longer.

The ruddy faced man before him said nothing more, just continuing to stare with narrowed eyes. Frank tried to ignore the stale cigarette smoke and bourbon on his breath. There were few members of force that could look as unkempt as Mack did and not be chewed out by their superiors. Mack made "rumpled" look like an art form.

Frank bit his top lip as he turned to leave and on a whim patted Mack on the shoulder as he passed him. "Well, if you've got it all covered here then…. I'll leave ya to it."

From the venom dripping down his spine he knew there would surely be ramifications for his sarcasm, but not today and oddly for once Frank didn't fear what would be, for today he was free - and on Department time. He grinned at how much that alone would be getting under McGowan's skin.

-00-

Walking back into Bayport Police Station warmed Frank more than he could have imagined; he hadn't realized just how emotional he was at the moment as tears threatened to prick his eyes. Taking a deep breath and bending down to check his shoelaces he pulled himself together.

"Hey Frank!" the desk Sergeant called out, seeing him for the first time.

"Hey Tom" Frank straightened up and went straight over to shake the older man's hand. "How's it going?"

"Yeah, yeah – it's Bayport, ya know, not as exciting as New York I'm sure but still we have our fair share of things on the go." Tom smiled warmly and grabbed Frank's shoulders to hold him out at arms length. Beaming he shook his head at the young man before him "You're a sight for sore eyes Frank Hardy; It's just so good to see you back, are you staying long? How's that brother of yours going – keeping out of trouble? – I bet he isn't; wouldn't be Joe if he was!" Tom laughed loudly at his own joke and before Frank could answer even one of his questions he was grabbed into a bear hug.

Frank marveled at how good it felt to be really welcome somewhere. He hugged Tom back and couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Tom let him go finally after much back slapping but then quickly put his arm around Frank's shoulders and guided him firmly around the desk and into the station.

"C'mon son, there are people here who have missed you and want to say hello."

Frank felt a fleeting pang of sadness when Tom referred to him as "son". The last person to call him that had been his father and hearing it now was like giving a beer to an alcoholic.

_Take care of things son, we'll be home in a couple of weeks…_ his father's voice echoed in his memory.

The rest of the morning was spent catching up with old friends and being introduced to new police members. Frank kept looking over his shoulder expecting McGowan to come through the door and roar at him for wasting time chatting. By lunchtime the social time had ended and they were all down to work, briefing each other on the case that was now being worked on by the two precincts.

It took Frank all his resolve not to go out searching down the leads they had, and he had to forcibly reign himself in on more than once occasion when he almost voiced his intentions. There were Bayport police officers to do that; he was there to liaise, not to do their legwork. For now his job was here at the station.

-00-

After a long but satisfying day Frank drove to Elm Street and braced himself for the lurch he always felt, seeing his family home again. For a brief moment he always looked for his and Joe's van, or his father's car in the driveway; for a brief moment he refused to let reality tell him it would never be that way again and for a brief moment he would still hope. It was always the same, it killed him inside a little more each visit finding the house as quiet as a tomb, locked up, empty - silently waiting.

He called in next door to the neighbors' to let them know he was staying a few days and after promises of sharing a meal and further visiting whilst he was there he finally made it to his own front door.

He found his hands shaking as he tried to insert the old familiar key in the lock and couldn't help the tears that started to blur his vision when the familiar smell of his home met him. If he closed his eyes for just a moment and waited then perhaps he'd hear his mother's voice call out, or hear his father in his study. If he concentrated for just a moment he'd smell dinner cooking in the welcoming homey kitchen. Instead there was silence.

Not for the first time that day he took another fortifying breath and headed into the house. He and Joe had both decided they were unable to face selling the house and though neither lived there full time they kept it maintained as it had been, and visited, usually together when they could, or needed to.

Leaving his bag at the door and resisting the urge to call out "I'm home", he quietly made his way into the main living area, ignoring the closed doors along the hallway. The lump in his throat grew when the room came into view and he tried desperately not to let his grief overwhelm him again.

The dust sheets loomed like silent white ghosts hanging motionless in the air and a memory flashed back into Frank's head from his childhood; "Casper the Ghost". He chuckled at the thought and was startled at how his voice echoed. Shaking his head and taking in yet another deep breath he uncovered the living room furniture then opened windows to let in some fresh air.

The boys had been lucky; the Ryan's next door had insisted on popping in at odd times to keep an eye on the place, keeping it dusted and maintained. Mrs Ryan had argued with the boys that she wanted them always to know their home was waiting for them whenever they'd be coming home. Deep down Frank knew she meant "home for good" but for now this would have to do.

The boys had protested that she didn't need to trouble herself, but thanked her profusely and handed over a set of keys. It was hard to think of another woman cleaning their mother's house - but deep down they understood it was something Mrs. Ryan needed to do too; she and Laura had been friends for over thirty years, she wasn't ready to let go yet either. On the up-side it meant the boys always found the house neat and clean on their return, only having to switch on the refrigerator and stock the kitchen.

A quick tour of the house left Frank unable to control his tears any longer. There was always a need to check the house regardless of the Ryan's efforts and he knew he'd not be able to rest until he'd walked every inch. He hadn't really wanted to see their old rooms, his parents room, his fathers study, but he couldn't not do it, each room holding the same promise of "maybe", "maybe" it was all a bad dream and if he wished really, really hard… he opened the door to the next silent room.

The pain was enormous as he stood in each empty room and let his tears flow unchecked. It'd been years but still the pain was as fresh as it had been the day they'd died. He was really starting to feel like he'd made a mistake by deciding to stay at the house on his own after all; perhaps a motel would have been better.

The sound of a key in the door brought him from his thoughts with a rush and with heart pounding he made a beeline for the entry.

"Frank, ya here yet?" Frank rolled his eyes and shook his head at the sound of Joe's voice.

"Joe! – what the hell are you doing here?" Frank grabbed him and hugged him fiercely.

Joe had been trying to manhandle his bags through the door when Frank grabbed him and he stumbled into the hug.

"Steady on bro! – I only spoke to you last night man!" he laughed, wondering what had spooked his brother to react quite this enthusiastically.

When Frank released him Joe could see the tear streaked face and nodded; knowing the problem straight away. "Sorry, thought I might have been able to get here before you had to … you know… come in and everything."

Frank nodded, his bottom lip trembling a little. "Never gets any easier Joe, I hadn't given it a thought, what it would be like, until I put the key in the door…"

Joe nodded, looking around for himself. "Yeah… I still keep thinking I'll hear mom calling out…." Frank nodded silently, tears threatening to spill again.

Joe sighed quickly and picked up his dropped bags. "Ok, well, anyway we're here and we're together so let's get settled in…, you got food yet?"

Frank rolled his eyes and laughed. "Trust you, always hungry… no, I've just gotten here a little while ago… checked the house over, seems it's all good." He turned away and headed to the kitchen leaving Joe to do his own wandering. "We've still got tinned food but we're going to have to do a trip to the market for anything else… what are you doing here anyway?" Frank called out as he checked the cupboards.

"I heard on the grapevine you were going to be here and I thought I'd spend a few days… you know…" Frank spun around at the nearness of Joe's voice. Joe raised an eyebrow questioningly. "So, back to my original question…are you ok bro?"

Frank stopped and closed his eyes, resting his forearms on the counter top, letting his eyes drift to the garden beyond the window. "Yeah Joe, I'm ok… just got a lot on my mind… work and stuff."

Joe stood languidly in the door way, his ankles and arms crossed. His steady blue eyes never leaving his brother. "Yeah… I can see that."

"What do you mean you heard it on the grapevine?" Frank asked quietly.

Joe smiled conspiratorially. "I have my ways, bro."

Frank straightened up suddenly and smiled tiredly at Joe. "You want Pizza? it's been a long day and I've hardly eaten." Franks attempt at changing the subject worked.

Joe smiled and nodded, uncrossing his ankles and making way for Frank to leave the kitchen. "Sounds good, let's go." Frank didn't see Joe's thoughtful furrowed brows as he followed him to the car.

-00-

The two young men spent an easy evening at Mr. Prito's pizza place and laughed more than either of them had in a long time. Mr. Prito made a royal fuss of them, catching them up on news of Tony and Chet and other old friends. Some of them were still in Bayport and Frank and Joe were eager to be able to catch up with them this trip.

"How long are you staying this time?" Mr. Prito asked after plying them with seconds on dessert and coffee.

"Only a few…" Frank started to say but was cut off by Joe.

" – weeks we think at the moment Mr. Prito" Joe said easily.

Frank glared lightly at his brother; he hated it when Joe spoke for him. "Well, perhaps Joe will be here that long but I think I'll be heading back a little sooner than that."

Mr. Prito nodded enthusiastically. "It's like old times having you boys here again!" There was more laughing and talking before Frank and Joe excused themselves blaming an early start for Frank in the morning and played up the fact that they'd both been travelling that day. Mr. Prito quickly let them go after they promised they'd be back to see him again.

-00-

Getting back to the house was a silent affair. Joe drove, marginally surprised that Frank hadn't actually argued the fact; not in the slightest. They both murmured when they saw their home come into view.

"Looks better doesn't it?" Joe remarked, referring to the welcoming glow of the porch light and a couple of internal lights they'd left on.

Frank nodded, drinking in the sight, his heart aching. "Yeah… much better now."

The business of making beds and unpacking bags gave Frank the out not to have to discuss anything too much and before long both men made their way to their old rooms and said goodnight. Joe let him go easily, not pushing the subject any further. Instead he lay in the dark wondering how bad things had become to make his brother so emotionally unstable.

They'd been on their own for quite some years now and though both boys missed their parents and their old family life, he really had thought both of them had grieved and learned to move on. After today he wasn't so sure… He wasn't so sure about a lot of things.

-00-

The morning was brilliant. That would be really _brilliant_. Frank had forgotten just how bright his room was first thing in the morning with the warmth of the rising sun waking him early. Laying for a minute he had to get his bearing as to where he was and actually wondered for a brief moment if this had really been all a dream.

Yesterdays flooded back for him and for a few more minutes he closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth and softness of his old bed. _If only we could all go back_ … He didn't often let his memories come to the fore but being in the house now with Joe was bringing things back he hadn't felt in a long time; things he hadn't let himself feel.

The sound of running water in the bathroom that connected their rooms surprised him; the thought that Joe was actually up at this hour shocked the hell out of him. He padded across the floor to the bathroom door and knocked gently.

"Hey, whichever alien you are that's taken my brother, can you give him back now please?" Frank asked in an innocent voice.

"Oh funny Frank, very funny…" Frank laughed at the muffled reply that only meant that Joe was in the process of brushing his teeth.

Frank set about getting his clothes out for that day and busied himself until he heard Joe's door click on the other side. He showered, shaved and dressed before heading downstairs.

Joe met him in the dining room, car keys in hand. "We've got a problem" he stated simply.

Frank felt his stomach lurch and his eyes darted around the room quickly. "What? What's happened?"

Joe raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Chill out bro, gosh I was just going to say we've got no milk, no coffee and nothing to make breakfast with…" He watched Frank visibly relax.

"Yeah, I know, I was going to head over to the market …" Frank started before Joe stopped him.

"Yeah well, why don't we go out and eat now and I'll take care of the whole grocery thing today while you do the whole working thing; after all, I'm the man of leisure here."

Frank nodded, thinking the plan out as he did. "Sounds good… you still haven't told me why you're here though… man of leisure?"

Joe smiled his easy boyish smile that Frank had missed so much. "Yeah well, I told you I was back from a thing didn't I? - just decided to take a little time off."

Frank tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at him, reaching out to stop him from passing through the doorway. "Yeah, I heard that bit, but what about the whole thing of being so snowed under at work at the moment?"

Joe shrugged his shoulders, his face passive. "Plans change man, chill for goodness sakes…I've got time off, you wanna spend the whole time talking work or what? C'mon, I need coffee." He pushed gently passed Frank, patting him on the shoulder.

Frank watched him for a moment then followed him out to the car, locking the house and resetting the house alarm as he went. "Yeah, but you still haven't told me; if you're not an alien impersonating my brother, what kind of torture did they inflict on you to have you get up so early in the morning."

Joe gave him a withering look and feigned disgust. "You are just so funny you know that?" Frank smiled, then laughed and tossled Joe's hair as he had when they were younger. "It's good to have you here Joe, for however long you've got."

-00-

The next few days flew for Frank and couldn't help but feel he'd been transported back in time. Working with the Bayport Police was so comfortable and he easily slipped into the old rhythm, even the dark cloud of having to return to New York eventually couldn't spoil his current mood.

His nights were spent hanging out with Joe and catching up with friends. Every night was a late night with a promise that tomorrow night wouldn't be, but it always was. It was obvious to each of them how much good it was doing for the other just to be there and be together again.

The surprise for Frank was getting a call from Ezra Collig. He smiled warmly at the familiar voice on the phone.

"Frank, son, I heard you were back from the big smoke, come over and see me when you've got the time, in fact, you and Joe come for dinner tonight, can you?"

Frank agreed readily and it wasn't until he'd hung up the phone that he wondered what the Chief wanted. To most it would have sounded like a casual invitation but to Frank he knew it had been more than that.

He quickly called Joe and left a message on the answering machine for him to call him back, biting his lip when he heard his father's voice on the answering machine tape. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to plug the old machine back in while they were home. He made a mental note to change the tape; well, maybe.

-00-

Dinner at the Collig house was wonderful. Mrs. Collig had gone all out and prepared a fabulous roast meal with all the trimmings. By the time dessert had been served Joe lamented he'd not need to eat again for a week which of course had them all laughing loudly. Joe's love of food was well known to all that knew the Hardys.

After dinner the three men relaxed in the living room and Mrs. Collig made busy in the kitchen, clearing away the dishes. After a few minutes of idle chatting Joe excused himself to help Mrs. Collig in the kitchen. Frank had thought the Chief had wanted to speak to both of them and was mildly surprised that their host didn't stop him. Mrs. Collig readily accepted the help.

"So Frank, how's it really going in New York…?" the older man eyed him carefully.

Frank had expected the question but still felt a lump rise in his throat. "It's ok, you know, head down, working hard…" his voice trailed off when he saw Chief Collig start to shake his head.

"What?" Frank asked, unsure of the response his answer had produced.

"C'mon Frank, you're working with Lieutenant McGowan; you can't honestly tell me that you're doing ok there can you? The man is brutal, not to mention he hated your father…" Frank was stunned at the directness of the question.

"It doesn't matter" he found himself stammering slightly, "It doesn't matter because I just need time to work hard and fit in… Dad would have …" but Ezra Collig stopped him again.

"Son, …" he started gently, "You're dad wouldn't have wanted this for you… not for a minute. I know what you're trying to do but honestly Frank, don't you see that there's more to this than you realize?"

Frank stared at the floor, unable to trust himself to look directly at Chief Collig. Retired or not he'd always be "the Chief" and he'd always be Frank's superior.

"I don't understand why it has to be so hard." Frank stated simply, surprising himself that he'd spoken out loud.

"It's hard because you don't know what you've gotten yourself involved in." Ezra continued softly. "You think it's a coincidence we brought you up here?"

Frank stared in surprise. "_We_ brought you?...but Loudner? He was…"

"Oh sure, Loudner… for goodness sake Frank did you honestly think the Bayport police couldn't sort that out without someone to 'liaise' from New York? Think about it…" Ezra stood and made his way over to a small cupboard. "Don't tell my wife" he muttered, then proceeded to pull out a bottle of Scotch and two glasses.

Frank was surprised but readily accepted the proffered glass. He wasn't a big drinker but right now he'd have taken battery acid if he'd been offered it.

"I don't understand." Frank said after his first sip, concentrating on the way the liquor burned a trail of warmth down his throat.

Ezra sighed and nodded. "I figured you were too close to the subject to see it clearly. I'd hoped it would have played out differently, but it hasn't."

At the quizzical look from Frank he continued. "Ok, here's a bit of history you more than likely don't know. McGowan and your father went through rookies together."

"Yeah, I already knew that, believe me, everyone in the precinct knows and McGowan never lets me forget it."

The Chief nodded knowingly. "But I'm assuming what you don't know is why McGowan and his predecessor hated your father so much. It's not common knowledge anymore, the files have been sealed. McGowan's own father was a dirty cop and it was your father that brought him down. That's why McGowan hated him so much and having you in his squad means he can finally have some payback."

Frank raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Dad never told me…"

"I know; but that's not the half of it, if it _was_ just the bad blood I'd be telling you to suck it up and stand up for yourself. Hell, he's only a Lieutenant, not the Commissioner and it were that simple I'd tell you – but what you need to know is the whole precinct down there is under surveillance at the moment. There's a lot more going on than you realise and _that's_ why you're getting kept at arms length. You're never involved in anything too big because they can't afford for you to be."

Frank felt like he'd been sucker punched. He knew his hand was shaking and quickly placed his glass on the table beside him.

"I know about the beating you took." Ezra told him quietly, his old eyes piercing Frank's soul.

Frank returned his stare for a moment. For a moment Ezra Collig thought the young man before him would crumble where he sat but in an instant he saw Frank's face turn into a mask of passiveness. _Well practiced I'm sure_ Ezra Collig thought sadly to himself.

"Things happen Chief; that was a mugging gone wrong; I was stupid - thought I could handle it without back-up, I didn't wait, I rushed in and I paid for it. Trust me, I've learned from the experience."

"I'm sure you have; three broken ribs, a hairline fracture of the jaw, concussion… do you want me to continue?"

Frank stared at the floor. "Why would you even know this?"

The old man sighed and leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees. "Frank, I've been watching you since the day you left here… and it's not just that your dad and I were lifetime friends, it's more than that. You and Joe are family; to me, to a lot of people – whether you realize it or not; and family looks out for family."

Frank couldn't speak for the lump rising in his throat. Instead he nodded. "Thank you" he managed to whisper.

"You _were_ being taught a lesson – never caught the guy did you? The case was taken off you and handled by another cop in the squad wasn't it? I know you don't want to believe it, but you were set up. Your service revolver disappeared in the attack as well didn't it? It's never been recovered and it hasn't surfaced in any crimes since…"

The room was silent except for the muted sounds of dishes clinking in the kitchen. Finally Frank lifted his eyes to the man before him, mask firmly in place.

"What you're telling me is McGowan's dirty? But how?... I mean I would have… I haven't…" Frank fell over his words as his thoughts swirled. He was surprised at how calmly and quietly the man before him was telling him all this. His mind started to click into place and thoughts flashed through his head.

Ezra Collig nodded silently, giving Frank time to digest what he was being told.

"Does Joe know?" Frank asked suddenly.

Ezra nodded. "More than you know… He can't tell you… but I can since I'm not technically in the Department anymore… well, not officially…"

At that moment Joe chose to re-enter the living room and the sheepish look on his face told Frank he'd heard everything from the kitchen.

"Dishes are done" he muttered, biting his lip and sitting down to face the two already seated men. Joe cringed at how pale his brother had become.

"Joe?" Frank asked breathlessly.

"Oh c'mon Frank, you know how tied up in red tape I am. I couldn't tell you, I still can't …"

Frank found for the first time in his life that he needed to put some distance between two people that he'd always been totally comfortable to be around. Right now he needed to be on his own. Apologizing suddenly he rose and stumbled for the door. Mrs. Collig was nowhere to be seen, and Frank heard himself thanking an empty kitchen for a delicious meal. He was out of the front door and walking less than two minutes after Joe had entered the room.

-00-

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

SILENT FOOTSTEPS

By: Hardygirls

Chapter Two.

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except for some OC's – I take them out, we play – then tired and happy I send them home..

-00-

"Well that went well." Joe sighed heavily.

Ezra Collig contemplated the drink in his hand. "He really didn't have any idea did he?"

Joe shook his head dejectedly. "Do you have _any_ idea how hard this has been? - for me? We've never kept secrets before and this one…"

The retired police chief edged forward in his seat and reached out his hand to grab Joe's shoulder.

"Son, if _anyone_ knows, I do; I've _hated_ watching; knowing that his could only go one way… I'd only hoped it would have been sooner rather than later."

"He just so wanted to be like Dad you know, follow in his footsteps. I've tried to talk him out of it, God knows I've tried but he's got this idea that if he didn't do the time with the New York PD then he wouldn't be as good as Dad, wouldn't have the right to be as good a detective, couldn't call himself a true detective."

Ezra watched the young man before him and wondered where the years had gone. Joe Hardy was a grown man now, a Secret Service operative; not the skinny young lad who's eyes shone at the thought of working out a mystery with his father and brother. This wasn't a Hardy boy before him, this was a Hardy man.

"I know Joe, I know. Frank took it particularly hard when your parents died." At the quick look from Joe he raised his hands to silence him.

"I know you did too, it's just Frank's always been the older brother, you have to give credit to that fact and realize the different grief you've both suffered. To Frank he's now head of the household, a small household but one nonetheless. The thought of failing you in anyway, not providing a good home, the thought of not being as well thought of as your dad, well, Frank's had this burning in him for more years than just those without your parents."

Joe shook his head and frowned deeply. "I know he's my older brother! I don't need to be reminded of that, or the sacrifices he's made for me, my education! – God if I could change it, change places with him I would in a flash! Do you think I _wanted_ him to sacrifice his career for mine?"

Ezra Collig sat quietly and listened as Joe vented his frustrations.

"Frank couldn't fail me in a heart beat! There is _nothing_ my brother could do that wouldn't make me any less proud of him or love him any less than I ever have! And Dad! – well, he was _my_ father too and I can guarantee you that what he _wouldn't_ want is Frank to be so strung out he's in extreme danger of having a complete breakdown – you only have to look at him to see that!" Joe glared at the older man, panting heavily, his fists clenched around the arms of the chair, his head jutted forwarded.

Ezra waited until Joe's breathing settled a little more before speaking quietly.

"I know that Joe, I know you believe it with every fibre of your being, but the problem is that Frank doesn't. To him at any moment he _might_ fail you and holding on as tightly as he is is the only way he's coped, until now."

Joe calmed down and willed his body to ease back into the chair. "I'm sorry Chief, I shouldn't have gone off like that."

"It's of no matter Joe, you're passionate in your support of Frank, I'd have been surprised if you'd reacted any other way. The thing I see is that yes, Frank needs to hear a few home truths, but so do you; you have to try and understand the pressure he's put himself under… it's the only way you can help him deal with it. This isn't about you, it's all about him."

Joe closed his eyes and wearily shook his head. "Chief Collig, you have no idea how much about him this whole fiasco is; I'd better get back to the house, he'll be there soon."

As Joe rose to leave he was surprised to find his host drain his glass and start towards the door.

"You coming or what?" he asked the surprised younger man. "You didn't really think I'd be letting you do this on your own did you?"

-00-

Frank finally reached the corner of Elm Street and with numb hands plunged deeply into pockets plodded doggedly for home. It wasn't that cold, but he'd lost feeling in his tightly clenched fists some time back, choosing to continue to walk the full distance from the Collig residence, resisting the urge to hail a cab. At first he'd almost run, then slowed to a very fast walk. As the distance grew and his temper faded he'd slowed his pace to a more manageable walk.

The things that Ezra Collig had said, the fact that Joe knew so much… his head hurt with the revelations. Right now he didn't want to hear it; right now he could only take in a little at a time. He wondered when it was that he'd become so brittle.

He reached the house and fished into his pocket for his key. Struggling with the lock he was surprised to find the dead bolt had been latched. His fear rose at the realization that that couldn't only be done from _inside_ the house.

As he struggled he became aware of footsteps approaching the door from within the house. Spinning around he looked for Joe's car but it wasn't there; Joe couldn't have gotten home before him – and besides, why would he have dead bolted the door?

The door opened and Frank was facing a tall dark haired man with a build quite similar to that of Joe's.

"Frank Hardy?" the man boomed, his voice deep.

Frank steeled himself to run, already deciding that entering the house to the possibility of more assailants was a stupid thing to do. The man sensed his imminent flight.

"Don't leave, please come in, I've been expecting you; I'm a friend of Joe's."

Frank stared in disbelief, opting to take several steps away from the house, unable to decide what to do. His fists were still clenched and he regretted letting them go as numb as he had.

The sound of a car in the driveway spooked him further but relief flooded through him when Joe and Ezra Collig got out.

"Frank!" Joe called, then seeing the man at the door smiled wildly. "Hey, Fox" he called out in welcome.

Frank stood still, not knowing if he should react or not. He scanned his brother constantly to see if this was some kind of a trap and was Joe about to tell him to run at any second. To his surprise Joe went forward and embraced the man and even more surprising was seeing Ezra Collig also shake hands with the man.

Joe turned back to Frank quickly. "Hey Frank, come meet Fox."

Frank eyed his brother carefully, then flicking a quick look to Ezra Collig slowly entered the house.

"So you want to tell me why you're in our house?" Frank asked by way of greeting Fox.

Fox nodded contritely, his body language relaxed and unguarded. "I apologize for that Frank, it's just we needed to know the house was clean and protected. I had expected Joe to be with you on your return."

Frank glared at Joe, his eyebrows raised.

Joe shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't know Frank; honestly, I didn't know they were coming yet."

"Yet?" Frank echoed, "They?"

"That would be me." Another voice drifted from the living room and again Joe went forward happily to greet them.

"Frank, Chief Collig, this is Harry, Harry, meet Frank and Chief Collig." Joe completed the introductions.

"I need to sit down" Frank moaned, his head starting to swim. "That is, if it's ok with all of you?" he added with a touch of sarcasm.

"Um guys? I need a moment with my brother, where can we go?"

"_Where _can we go? Joe this is _our_ house for Pete's sake!" Frank snapped in disbelief.

Again Frank found himself ignored and listened in disbelief as Harry informed them that their late father's study was fine. _Late father's study…_ Frank tried to blot out the words.

Ezra and Joe took an arm each and led Frank to the study, closing the door firmly.

"Sit" Joe instructed, leading Frank to the sofa.

Ezra Collig pulled up a visitors chair and Joe leaned against the desk, his back to it, ankles crossed.

"Joe, what the _hell_ is going on here?" Frank asked through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry Frank, we weren't expecting them this soon, things must have changed a little, I'll get a sitrep… I mean I'll find out the latest after we talk."

"Things?" Frank mocked him, his voice rising.

"Frank, son, you need to calm down and listen to what your brother has to say, just give him a chance to explain; you need to hear this." Ezra Collig interrupted them.

Frank glared and Joe and let out a deep sigh. Joe didn't miss the complete annoyance on Frank's face and cringed inwardly. He'd always hated it when Frank was mad at him. He took a deep breath and started.

"Frank, you need to understand from the outset I had no way of telling you any of this, not a bit. When I signed into the bureau you know I took an oath and no matter who you are to me, I couldn't break that."

Frank's lips were pursed, his deep brown eyes glowering but he remained silent.

"You know I always told you not to go to New York? Well your appointment came through when I was away on a job, remember? You told me about it when I got back. Do you remember how upset I was? Remember the way I tried to talk you into retracting your application? Do you think I did that because I _wanted_ to upset you? Or worse, that I didn't believe you had what it took? Well, we fought and you won, remember?"

Frank nodded silently after a moment, thinking back to their fiery argument.

"See, the guys you're working with have been under surveillance for a long time and the last thing I wanted was for you to get sucked into it. I couldn't believe my dumb luck that you got a job with them the moment I'm away; you've got no idea how many strings I tried to pull to get your position overturned but the bureau decided it was better that you were there than not, in the long run. Imagine how I've been feeling when I know my brother is conveniently being used as a lamb to the slaughter and I can't say a single thing to him about it."

Frank sat quietly and Joe saw with some relief the anger had faded from his eyes. It bothered him though to see the hurt that replaced it. Joe took a breath and pushed on.

"McGowan is as crooked as they come, but there are other players involved that we haven't been able to identify yet. I'd hoped since you'd become mixed up in it that it would come to a result sooner rather than later."

"How the hell was I supposed to do anything Joe? I didn't know I was supposed to be doing something?" Frank asked quietly.

"It's not what I mean; I meant I hoped it would get sorted so that you weren't having to take so much stick anymore. You weren't supposed to know, we've been trying to keep you safe."

"Me? Safe? – really? And how exactly have you done that?" Frank asked.

"By continuing to keep you in the dark." Ezra Collig told him equally as quietly.

"You're alive because you don't know anything Frank and given your track record for detective work we've all been holding our breaths that you wouldn't get wind of anything and you wouldn't start investigating on your own."

Frank shook his head. "This is all too much, you expect me to believe this?"

"Yeah, frankly Frank, I do?" Joe replied, the frustration he'd been bottling up giving his voice a hard edge.

"Ever wonder why Mack didn't join the rest of you on garbage duty the other night?" Joe asked, cocking his head on the side.

"Mack?" Frank echoed? "How did you know that?"

"He knows a lot Frank; Joe's unit has been monitoring you since the outset." Ezra prompted quietly.

Joe sighed deeply and ran his hands through his unkempt blond hair. "At the risk of you never speaking to me or trusting me again, I'd still do things over just the same way. I've been trying to keep you safe Frank and my superiors, my unit, they needed me to be rock solid. Did you know that every phone call I make is monitored?" Joe asked quietly. Do you know my apartment, hell, the whole unit's apartments are bugged 24/7?"

Frank recoiled slightly and opened his mouth to speak but no words came.

"We're all monitored Frank, we're Secret Service for Pete's sake, did you think they just take you at your word with the whole hand over your heart thing? That's just for the glossy photo for the press to publish the day you mysteriously disappear and they need to cover up what you were doing. Trust me, I had no way of telling you and to be perfectly honest it was better you didn't know. My team, that's Fox and Harry and a couple of other guys have been working around the clock to wrap this up and get a result. It's getting too bad now though, so when Laudner did a runner to Bayport we pulled the strings to get you sent here. _Now_ you've got a letter on your email at the station telling you that you've been seconded to the Bayport area for the next few weeks."

All the while he spoke, Frank watched his baby brother. He watched the body language, his facial expressions and it cut him deeply to see the angst Joe was suffering. He realized all of a sudden that Joe had finally stopped talking.

Sitting silently for a moment he looked at his hands, staring at the left, then the right. He had so much tumbling through his mind he couldn't even voice his need for those around him to give him a minute. It didn't matter though, nobody spoke until he did.

"It's Ok Joe… I know… you've in the proverbial rock and hard place – I get that; but can you totally level with me now?" Frank was grateful that his voice held steady.

Joe and Collig looked at each other then turned back to Frank.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Joe asked quietly.

-00-

It was some time before the door opened and Frank, Joe and Chief Collig left the study. Frank's head had started to pound in ernest and the brightness of the rest of the house hurt his eyes. Having a sudden thought he turned back to the Chief.

"Chief Collig…" he started, only to be stopped by the older man.

"Frank, call me Ezra… please… I think it's about time, don't you?"

Frank opened his mouth then closed it again suddenly.

Ezra patted him gently on the back. "You were saying Frank?" there was a twinkle in his eye that Frank hadn't seen in a long time.

"Umm… Tell me, do I go back to New York? – I mean now that I know what's going on do I go back?"

Ezra gazed past Frank to the men that had just walked towards them in the hall. "That hasn't been decided yet."

Frank turned to see Joe talking in ernest with Fox and Harry. He watched for a moment, watching the way Joe spoke with such confidence. The body language of the group paid tribute to the fact they were indeed a team and it gave Frank a measure of reassurance that Joe did have someone watching his back in the career he'd chosen.

He felt Ezra's hand on his shoulder steering him toward the kitchen.

"C'mon, I need a coffee." Ezra told him quietly.

With a last look at Joe he let himself be led into the kitchen.

Standing beside the bench he watched Ezra fill a glass with water from the tap and hand it to him with two white tablets. Frank took them without question.

"Tylenol, thanks." He murmured swallowing them both down.

"Now for something a little stronger." Frank watched absently as the Chief made a strong pot of coffee. After pouring out a cup for himself and Frank, he reached into his pocket and took out a hip flask. He didn't bother to ask Frank, both mugs got a generous addition to them.

Frank swirled the mug a moment, breathing in the warmth and strong alcoholic aroma. "I never knew you drank."

Ezra smiled then became serious. "There's a time for everything Frank, everything in moderation."

Frank smiled ruefully. "My father used to say that to us all the time."

Ezra smiled and raised his mug to him before taking a long sip. "He was my best friend for over thirty years; who'd ya think taught him that?"

-00-

Frank sat rubbing his temples in small slow circles with his index fingers. The day had been a killer and he still couldn't believe that not only the Secret Service was in his home, actually broken into his home, but that Ezra Collig was involved and Joe had been all along.

"Frank?' Joe asked quietly.

Dropping his hands to the table, Frank turned to his brother and offered a glimmer of a smile. "Yeah brat?"

Joe smiled at the pet name. "You ok there?" he asked simply.

Frank closed his eyes for a moment then opened them, sighing as he did so. "Yeah, just a bitch of a headache is all; and before you say anything Chief.. I mean Ezra's already given me Tylenol."

Joe grinned. "Takes a bit of getting used to doesn't it… "Ezra"… gosh it's like calling your school teacher by their first name…"

Frank nodded and chuckled. "Yeah, things are way off base today aren't they."

Joe's grin slipped a little as Frank once again lifted his hands to his temples and stretched his jaw as he rubbed. "Still having problems with that?" Joe asked, biting his lip a little. Reading the reports on Frank's supposed "mugging" had decimated Joe. Unlike the old days when they worked as a team he couldn't run to Frank's side, couldn't actually be seen with Frank. For the sake of his cover Joe had a "rap sheet" on the Police files a mile long; standard Secret Service issue of course but it made it very difficult sometimes.

Frank flashed him a quick smile but kept his eyes closed. "It's ok Joe, just been a big day in case you haven't noticed."

"Ok, we're set." Frank and Joe turned to Fox and Harry who'd been pouring over a laptop and some other equipment that Frank couldn't identify.

Joe stretched and got up to see what they'd done, giving Frank's shoulder a squeeze as he passed by. Once the group had settled down and explanations had been started Ezra Collig had excused himself with promises that he be called should they need him no matter what the time. Looking firmly at Frank he'd added "For whatever you need."

After a moment of staring at the same laptop Joe gave an appreciative shrug. "Cool, we're all set then."

"We're all set for what?" Frank asked, not bothering to get up and look. Normally he'd have been interested in the technical gadgetry but tonight his head hurt too much to think about anything other than the mountain of his own thoughts.

"Now we talk." Fox smiled warmly at Frank.

"And we couldn't because…?" Frank asked.

"Because firstly you didn't have full clearance and secondly this house hadn't been totally secured, only your study. Your dad was a prudent man; good and prudent." Harry added.

Joe was busy pulling over a set of documents that had obviously been folded up and come with one of them. "Look Frank, here – look at dad's study; look at the walls on these plans…"

Frank stared at the blueprint to their home, seeing nothing special about any of it.

Seeing him shake his head Harry pushed one of the laptops gently across the table, turning the screen around to face Frank. Before him was a similar blueprint but there were different markings around the outlines of two of the rooms.

"Ok, so what you've got on paper is the "official" plans to the house, the ones your local council would have. We've scanned this place and this is the accurate plans of the place; you'll see here that your Dad has had the study modified with specialized shielding in the walls. In layman's terms this means he fortified his study against being bugged." Harry had walked around behind Frank's chair as he spoke and reached over to point at the screen in various places. "Look, here and here, you see this? – he was a smart man your dad, really smart."

"Dad worked with the bureau on occasion" Joe murmured quietly to Frank.

Frank didn't think he could be told anything else that would stun him that day but that did.

"You mean… dad was… Secret Service?" Frank asked incredulously looking from Fox to Harry and then to Joe searching their faces for the punch line that just had to come. When they didn't answer him directly Frank raised himself from his seat to face them. "Oh, you guys are just like the gift that keeps on giving aren't you? How many more surprises have you got planned to spring on me?"

"Let's just say your old man was known to us and "assisted" on more than one of our cases." Harry said.

Joe was nodding at Frank the whole time. "Pretty cool eh?"

Frank shook his head then nodded. "Well, once again we find there's even more we didn't know about Dad."

"Right-oh then, let's get this show on the road, Joe you want to tell him what we're doing?" Fox asked.

"Frank, aside from everything we've told you already, you've now been cleared by the Secret Service to an acceptable security level and you can essentially know what we know about all of this." Joe hesitated to see if Frank would have anything to say about that.

"I'm not Secret Service Joe, I'm a cop from New York…" Frank started but stopped when he saw the three of them roll their eyes at him.

Fox shook his head and looked at Harry. "He's really had a number done on him hasn't he?"

Harry sighed. "You're not wrong there buddy, look Frank, it doesn't mean you're Secret Service, it's just that you've got a better than decent security clearance now ok… think of it as … think of it as what your dad had…".

At the reference to his dad his heart lurched but he kept his emotions in check. He nodded eventually, not trusting himself to speak.

"Ok, so we've got that sorted… now, the house has been bug proofed and you need to know we've added a few of our own so just so you know… no… singing in the shower, endless snoring…and country music is out of the question, you get the picture?"

They all chuckled at Harry's attempt at lightening the mood, then became serious again as Fox took over.

"We've turned this place into a base of operations; it's clean from a technical point of view not to mention your safely constructed study. The rest of the guys are arriving tomorrow and from there we'll be planning the next phase of the operation. The hard part is we need to know if you're willing to go back to New York and continue as if none of this has been made known to you?"

Frank looked at Joe for a moment, trying to read his brothers face. It was completely passive and Frank knew then he had to make this decision himself.

"Yeah… I'm not thrilled, but if it'll help… what am I going to be doing?"

"Wearing a wire for one thing." Fox told him. "You're going to be our eyes and ears in the squad."

Frank nodded, his stomach sinking even further. "I take it you've got specific targets for me?"

Harry pushed as second laptop screen in front of him. There on the screen was his partner Mack talking to a person Frank didn't know. The interesting thing though was the package that was changing hands between the two men. Frank didn't need any further magnification to see it was a gun; a police issue service revolver.

"And he's only one of our targets; we've got a whole hornets nest down there…" Harry told him.

Frank felt the cold band of steel strangle his stomach. All of a sudden the room seemed warmer, the air thinner and it was harder for him to catch his breath.

"Just breathe bro." Joe's hands were on him, guiding him to the sofa and easing him back. Frank kept his eyes closed, willing his stomach to stay where it was.

"It's mine" he gasped. Joe nodded solemnly his hand never leaving his brothers shoulder.

"Yeah, more than likely it's yours… but we're on it so don't panic… we're already on it." Frank hadn't felt Fox approach him and realized numbly the younger man was taking his pulse. Frank tried to pull his hand away and found it held firmly. "Steady on, just keep taking those breaths, I'm sorry for the shock…"

Harry had pulled up a chair in front of him and now stared keenly at him. "Be cool Frank, we've got your back ok? Everyone knows you're not involved in this. I'm sorry that you had to see it that way but now do you believe us?"

Frank swallowed heavily and nodded before answering. "Who's everyone?"

"The good guys Frank, the good guys know." Joe murmured, squeezing his shoulder gently, drawing Frank's gaze to him.

-00-

It was the early hours of the morning before the group of men stopped talking and Frank had managed to quell his fears a little.

Joe stretched again and checked his watch. He stole a glance at Frank, taking in the bloodshot eyes and dark circles under them. "Guys, let's wrap it up, it's been a long day, let's hit the sack, we can continue this in the morning."

Harry and Fox agreed and within minutes all the equipment was neatly packed away into ordinary unremarkable bags and sleeping bags were being rolled out on the floor. Frank thought for a moment then stopped their actions.

"Hey, Harry? Fox? we've got spare rooms, you don't need to be sleeping in the living room…"

Joe smiled at his brother and watched as Harry and Fox nodded and asked directions.

-00-

Sleep didn't come easily for Joe; he tossed and turned half expecting Frank to come bolting into his room, accuse him of lying to him and deceiving him and telling him he never wanted to speak to him again. No matter how he told himself he'd done the only thing he could, he still needed to clear the air with Frank. Getting out of bed he gently padded across the room and through their adjoining bathroom.

Frank's room was lit by the full moon shining through the open curtains. He could see straight away the shine of his brother's open eyes watching him.

"You ok Frank?" he whispered.

"I'm getting there little brother, I'm getting there… you can't sleep?"

Joe came over and sat on the end of Frank's bed as he had for all of his life. "Nup, not a wink… I've got to talk to you ok?"

Frank sat up and reached over to pat his leg. "Joe, you've not done anything wrong, don't worry abou.."

"You don't understand Frank, I've been sick to my stomach for the last year; I've watched you, worried about you and dreaded every new day wondering if this will be the day that everything goes pear shaped and I lose my only brother… my only family… forever… You have no idea the sleepless nights keeping this from you, being vague with you – telling you bald faced lies to protect my oath…protect you..."

Frank sat stone still listening and for a good while after Joe spoke as well. Finally he edged himself down to the end of the bed and pulled Joe into a wordless hug.

"It must have been so bad for you…" Frank said simply, only now starting to realize that he wasn't the only one that had made sacrifices. He shuddered at what Joe had been putting himself through, knowing it would have driven him insane if he'd had to do it.

He could feel Joe shake in his arms and felt the wetness of tears seeping through his t-shirt. "It's ok brat, it's ok… I understand and I'm not upset ok? – surprised maybe, even gob smacked but never upset with you… I'm sorry that I went off the rails before, it's just been a heap to take in…"

Joe nodded into his shoulder but remained leaning against his big brother. "We're good Joe, we're always good…" Frank crooned gently starting to rock. The years melted away for Frank as he sat comforting his brother in the dark.

-00-

The following day was a brighter one in the Hardy household. Frank and Joe both woke to the smell of sausages and pancakes and after quick showers followed their noses downstairs.

Fox and Harry were in the kitchen and Frank couldn't help but laugh at the military precision they were both ordering each other around with to make breakfast. Joe shook his head and walked back into the dining room, motioning for Frank to follow him.

"Trust me bro, leave them too it – I've found from experience it's better not getting under their feet when then in this mood; just take the food and say thank-you when it hits your plate."

Frank chuckled as voices rose and ebbed, punctuated with good helpings of banter.

"They're really good guys aren't they?" Frank murmured.

"Yeah" Joe answered. "They're great… I'm lucky to be on their team… they didn't have to have me, but they did and well, things just clicked and we all get along really well."

They sat in silence for a moment before they both spoke at once and then stopped, then laughed at the coincidence.

"You go first" Frank said finally.

"I just wanted to say thanks for… you know." Joe dropped his voice, all vestiges of humor gone from his voice.

Frank shook his head. "Don't do this to yourself Joe, I meant it when I said we're good…"

Joe smiled a little then nodded and then suddenly the mood was broken as Fox and Harry came in carrying heavily laden plates of pancakes and sausages.

Joe asked permission to enter the kitchen to grab the coffee pot and was abruptly told it would be near impossible to navigate to said coffee pot and that only an elite member of the chow team could possibly navigate their way too it.

Joe mock saluted and suggested in a deep clipped toned that such an elite member be found immediately because he for one was starting to suffer caffeine withdrawal.

Fox nodded and turned abruptly to Frank putting on his best feminine voice. "Frank darling, be a dear and get the coffee would you?"

The laughter followed Frank as he stood up and bowed slightly, adding "you're wish is my command…" before heading into the battle zone that had been a pretty neat kitchen the night before to rescue the coffee pot.

"How's he doing?" Fox asked in a low voice as soon as Frank was out of earshot.

"Ok I think, better anyway" Joe said hurriedly, his eyes darting to the door.

The rest of breakfast passed with lots of laughter and Joe's mind was eased when he saw how well Frank was getting along with his team members. After a quick clean-up Frank got his files together and headed to the police station for his shift. He'd been told by Fox to just act normally.

-00-

Frank found his mood had lightened considerably and he was actually humming to the radio as he drove his rental car to work. He was still mulling over the enormous amount of information he'd been given the day before but for once in a long time he finally felt as if there was something to look forward too. One way or another there was going to be an ending to the stress he'd been under.

Stopping for a red light, he daydreamed of better days to come, resisting thoughts of when he'd have to return to New York. For the moment he would concentrate on one thing at a time. Oddly enough, though he'd only just met Fox and Harry, he found himself trusting them without a thought.

He didn't see the figure waiting at the cross walk watching him, nor did he see him veer from his path of crossing the road until he loomed up beside Franks window.

"Watch your back Hardy brat!" He jumped at the foul breath pressed against his ear. Before he could react, Frank's reality exploded into a sea of pain that was only calmed by the darkness that took him.

-00-

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

SILENT FOOTSTEPS

By: Hardygirls

Chapter Three.

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except for some OC's – I take them out, we play – then tired and happy I send them home...

A/N: I am humbled; humbled beyond belief by the generous and thoughtful feedback I've received on the first two chapters; I can't tell you enough what a boost it is to have people like you give such encouragement. "The Watcher" is not dead either, he's still watching, and chapters are written but not finished blushes but they will be sooner rather than later and I apologize for making any of you feel like you've invested in a story going nowhere. I know what it feels like and I so hate it when I find something I like then see the updates have ground to a halt.

-00-

Ezra Collig had almost reached the Hardy home when he saw Frank pulling out in his rental car, presumably heading for work. Pulling over, he made a quick decision to wait a moment for Frank to get well in front of him. It had been a snap judgment; he'd actually been about to drop in on the boys to see how they were doing after the obvious stress of the previous evening. His gut told him they'd have been fine, but he couldn't help but feel protective towards the two young sleuths.

_It couldn't hurt to make a quick stop to say hello at the station now could it?_ He muttered to himself.

As Frank's car became smaller and smaller in the distance, Ezra Collig eased back onto the street and leisurely drove the same route he had for almost thirty years. He barely had to think about it anymore. It was just as well, as his full attention was now on the dark blue sedan in front of him.

Traffic was light as he reached the business district of Bayport, and he was surprised that Frank was also caught by the same red light, some ten cars up from him, leading the traffic.

As he waited for the light to change, the retired police chief fanned himself; the air conditioning had been playing up for a while now but with summer almost over it had gone on to the list of "things to do" when the weather cooled a little. He waited as patiently as he could which admittedly was more patiently than most - and once again ran the previous days happenings through his mind.

The tooting and blaring of horns pulled him from his thoughts. His anxiety rose several notches seeing that the light was now green but Frank's car was still holding up the traffic. With his stomach sinking quickly and his thoughts vainly hoping it was just a breakdown he scrambled from his car and headed forward, past the now seething drivers that were shaking their fists, and describing all sorts of persuasive methods to get the "guy in front" to move. Passing a car well known to him he interrupted the abuse coming from the man's mouth by saying a quick "G'morning Sid" and continued on. He didn't need to look back to see the abrupt change in his neighbor of many years' demeanor.

Ezra reached Frank's car, his heart beating strongly. A passerby had his head in the window, and Ezra jolted him when he grabbed him by the shoulder. Without platitudes he pulled him away from the window and leaned in, ignoring the frustrated "hey!" the man blustered at him.

Frank Hardy slumped lifelessly in the drivers seat, seat belt still fastened, head lolled to one side. Ezra dug for a pulse, gritting his teeth when his fingers slid in the blood oozing down Frank's neck. His own heart almost stopped beating when he felt a heartbeat; he could have collapsed right there in the street himself.

_Where there's life there's hope_ he kept repeating in his mind, not letting himself think that this sudden attack might be one Frank would lose.

"Has someone called an ambulance?" he roared at the growing crowd of vultures that were dressed as neat onlookers. The sound of sirens approaching answered his question.

A squad car pulled up beside him. "Chief! – what are you doing here?" a surprised patrolman asked.

"Don't worry about that now! – get over here and get this crowd under control!"

Within minutes things became more normal, by a policeman's standard anyway. A member of the force had started directing traffic around the stationary vehicle and patrolmen kept the onlookers from getting to close. All the while Ezra stayed with Frank, not letting anyone else get close until the paramedics arrived. He concentrated on the throbbing of Frank's pulse and continued talking quietly and urgently to the non-responsive man.

-00-

Joe's phone buzzed on the table beside his coffee cup and he snatched it up quickly. Seeing the caller he was surprised, frowning at Harry and Fox as he answered.

"Yeah" he answered abruptly.

"You're brother's just been hit, don't know how bad it is, the chief's on the job."

"When? Where? I'm on my way." Joe was on his feet in a split second making Harry come around to stand beside him his arms crossed tightly, listening for some clue to Joe's sudden angst. Joe's body language was all he needed to know something had happened to Frank.

"Stay put I've got it covered, I'll be in touch." The caller told him before the line went dead.

Joe snapped his phone shut and stood up, running his hands through his hair brusquely.

"Spill Joe, what's happened?" Harry urged, tight lipped.

"Frank's been hit; Pallan doesn't know how bad, he said to stay put, the chief's there already."

Fox let out a low whistle. "Things are starting to hot up…" The buzzing of his phone stopped any further conversation.

"Yeah…, we know, how is he?... doesn't matter, can you ride with him? … ok, keep in touch."

Joe looked questioningly, his eyes bugging out of his head. "Who?"

"The chief" Fox smiled knowingly. "Don't know how that man does it but he's on the scene with Frank now…"

Joe breathed out heavily, reaching for his coffee and taking a quick swig. "Pallan's got good timing."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Hmmm… thank God he was following Frank this morning."

-00-

Ezra Collig snapped his phone shut with one hand whilst keeping a firm grip on the unconscious man before him. He'd been quite taken aback when Fox had told him they already knew. He knew Joe's team were very skilled operators but there were times when their knowledge and how they got it so quickly amazed him.

"Sir, you have to move back." He turned his head quickly to see two paramedics bearing down on his position. Swinging back to Frank once more he squeezed his shoulder then gave up his position, defiantly hovering as close as he could without getting in the way.

-00-

As the mêlée at the traffic lights continued, a lone figure watched. The attacker hadn't moved far, choosing to take cover in the shadows of a deserted alley housing an old battered dumpster. He pulled the hood of the threadbare coat down lower, leaving his face completely in shadow. No one was close enough to hear his menacing chuckle. No one took any notice, watching instead the hapless young man being moved by gurney to a waiting ambulance. Job done. He could be on his way now.

He felt inside the oversized putrid coat he'd commandeered from the sleeping wino in the park only hours before. His fingers eased around the weapon within a deep pocket, giving him satisfaction he'd left nothing behind. In the other pocket he'd discovered a greasy brown paper bag concealing a questionably cheap bottle of liquor. That had been a bonus, and he'd had no compunction at snapping the wino's hand as he reached for it. Now he realized just why the homeless sap had wanted his coat back so bad, and it had nothing to do with the weather.

He waited for a few more minutes, then seeing a small group of people about to pass in front of the alley, their heads turned firmly towards the ambulance. He lurched out to walk along side them, cradling the bagged bottle openly. It had the desired effect, no-one wanted to be near him and moved away quickly, but it gave him the cover to leave the alley and fade into the streets beyond.

-00-

Special agent Pallan Hobbs continued to video the attacker and smiled acerbically at what an easy mark he was to the trained eye. He was the typical piece of muscle that others used to carry out their dirty work, and much to Pallan's satisfaction was arrogant enough to feel safe staying to watch his handy work. After years of practice Pallan had had no problem keeping his quarry in sight and still remain invisible. Easing out of his hiding place he leisurely strolled behind the attacker, letting him lead him to the next link in the chain.

-00-

Frank became aware of the muted voices around him. At first they were muffled, he couldn't comprehend anything other than that they were voices. The pain in his body was speaking a much clearer language and he tried in vain to move away from it, searching for the fog that had dulled it until now. A light moan escaped his dry lips.

"Frank? Can you hear me?" He knew the voice but just couldn't make his brain make the connection to a face.

"You're in the emergency room at Bayport General Frank, you're safe, we're looking after you." The voice continued in a low lulling volume.

He couldn't make his eye lids open, so he tried to nod his understanding. He didn't know why but the word "safe" made him feel less agitated, but it did. Someone was there and they knew about the pain.

"Just take it nice and slow, try and open your eyes when you're ready… you're quite safe now."

The voice faded as the white noise of the fog took over. Desperate for an end to the searing pain hunting him, Frank took the easier option and let himself be enveloped in the thick white nothing.

-00-

Ezra Collig paced the waiting room with an agitated stride. Though well known to the staff he'd not been able to get even a sniff of information. Frank had been rushed headlong into the sanctity of the emergency room and the very tall overbearing nurse that had blocked his path had brooked no argument regarding him staying with Frank.

His phone rang shrilly and he grabbed for it. Right now anything was better than the silence of the waiting room.

"Collig" he barked sharply.

"Oh, hey Joe, no, no news yet, I'm still waiting… no, don't come down, you'll just blow your cover, you know that, just stay put ok son? I'm staying right here, I'll ring you the minute I know something."

Flipping his phone shut Ezra closed his eyes briefly and breathed out heavily. He knew Fox and Harry would have their work cut out for them at the moment; Joe had never been good about not being able to get to Frank when he'd been hurt. For that matter, he thought ruefully to himself, Frank was just as bad when the shoe was on the other foot. He felt the mantle of caring for Frank on Joe's behalf weighing heavily on him.

-00-

Frank drifted; around him the deep fog swirled. Dimly he could hear snatches of sound but his mind wouldn't track. Though the fog left him cold and clammy there was a sense of peace in its whiteness, and then a shadow loomed dark and menacing; closer and closer. Instantly a blanket of fear descended on Frank and he jerked away from the foul smelling spectre, so close he could feel the burning glare of eyes glistening with hatred, the smell frighteningly familiar.

_Watch… watch__ out…_ the words were hardly discernable from the guttural hiss, and then he saw him… there was someone at the window, sneering at him, reaching in… reaching for him. Frank lunged to get away only to be stopped by strong hands, forcing him to stay.

"Easy now… he's coming round… don't let him fall"

Frank forced himself away from the hands, searching desperately for an escape route. The dimness was suddenly replaced by burning brilliant light. Heart racing, he sucked in a huge lungful of breath.

"Noooooo!" He shouted, his voice muffled to his own ear. Something on his face, tight, hurting; he tried desperately to dislodge it, his hands useless to the task.

"He's going into shock… can we get a mask back on him please…"

Frank tried to focus on the voices around him but the light was hurting his eyes. Raising his hand to shield them he once again met with firm resistance.

"He's going to pull that IV in a minute…It's ok Frank, take it nice and easy, you're safe… you're in the ER, take nice slow breaths for me…"

The voice was familiar, and somehow he felt he knew this place; its smell and sounds. He shivered at the feel of cold on his chest, moving from place to place, chilling him.

Forcing his eyes to open, he blinked owlishly then tried to push himself up only to once again find the firm resistance of hands keeping him where he was. The previous feeling of cold was replaced by slowly pervading warmth that settled over him, a blanket was being tucked around him. The fog was almost totally gone now and with it the dark spectre within. He relaxed a little and acquiesced to the gentle insistence trying to make him lay down.

Closing his eyes he let his body go limp, exhausted from his efforts.

"How's he doing?"

"He's coming round a little… it's slow, he took quite a hit to the neck."

"Doctor, his pressure's coming down, sats are improving..."

_Doctor…_ Frank's mind focused more easily on the voices around him, finally able to discern them from the muffled sounds of before. A tightness around his bicep released suddenly, a tightness he'd not registered before.

"Stay with him… he's still not lucid yet."

He wanted to tell them he could hear them but his tongue wouldn't cooperate; thick and heavy in his mouth. He tried to lick his lips but they were too dry. A warm hand on his squeezed his fingers gently.

"It's ok Frank, you're doing really well; you're in the ER, just take it slowly; don't try to force it."

Frank knew the voice so well it aggravated him not to be able to place a name and face to it. With a final effort he opened his eyes to the glaring light. The face before him swum slowly into focus.

"Al…Alan?"

The speaker smiled gently at him. "Yeah Frank, it's Alan… good to have you back, though you know, I would have been happy just to catch up over coffee rather than have you drop in on me at work like this. Back barely five minutes…"

Doctor Alan Bates had been Frank's doctor for many years and at times because of his youthful appearance had almost been mistaken for being a possible older brother to Frank. Both men had rich dark hair and hazel eyes. He turned away from Frank for a moment.

"Can you let Chief Collig know Frank's awake."

"What happened?" Frank swallowed carefully, suddenly becoming aware of the dull ache in his head and neck. The pain blossomed to his shoulder and arm as he tried experimentally to move his hands again.

Alan turned back quickly, expertly scanning Frank once again before continuing.

"We're pretty sure you got hit with some kind of a taser. Your attacker decided to do a really good number on you and went for your neck; more than once." Taking Franks hand he drew it towards the opposite side of his neck so the young man could feel the thick dressing. "That has to stay there for now, the prongs have done some superficial damage… you're lucky he missed the main arteries. You're gonna be quite sore for a couple of days."

Frank gingerly felt the thick wadding then let his hand fall back to the bed. He lay quietly trying to organize his thoughts.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

Alan looked at his watch. "About three hours, give or take. Ezra Collig is in the waiting room and wants to talk to you as soon as you feel up to it. Oh, and don't worry, Joe knows; he's not here but he does know. I guess his absence tells me you guys have some kind of business going on." It wasn't a question, just a calm statement of fact; Alan Bates had patched Frank and Joe up on many occasions knowing there were reasons why, but nothing he could be told. He turned to grab Frank's chart and start a fresh round of checks.

Frank's head was starting to ache fiercely. He turned his head to try and find a comfortable spot on the pillow only to stop at the sudden pull of the dressing on his neck. Rolling his shoulder slightly to stop the pulling sent star bursts of pain through his upper torso.

Alan watched and bit his lip. "Is the pain starting to build again?"

Frank nodded carefully. "Hmmmm… it's not good…. When can I get out of here?"

Alan closed his eyes briefly and snorted lightly. "Oh yeah, we'll discuss that a bit later… I'll get you something for the pain."

-00-

_To be continued…_


End file.
